


Fever dream.               {part 1}

by Writeyourownsir



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Romance, Slash, Smut, twilight - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:28:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28733469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writeyourownsir/pseuds/Writeyourownsir
Summary: 18+ Go away if you’re a minor, please!Origin story/ mood drabbles depicting the early days from EPOV. The Flu really bites, is his creator more than a friend?
Relationships: Carlisle Cullen/Edward Cullen
Kudos: 21





	Fever dream.               {part 1}

Fever dream 

Unconsciousness did not come for me with any particular distinction. I assumed it had been a long time since the fever began, the days ran together in a continuous blur. I could not recall the beginning, though I was somewhat aware of my hallucinations. I wouldn’t consider it agony, but I was uncomfortable. I felt impossibly warm with periods of icy spasms rocking what remained of my physical presence. Breathing hurt, I didn’t want to do that anymore. When snippets of the conversation around me broke through the dull roar in my ears it was only to alert me of the possibility I was headed out of this world. I didn’t have the energy to fear it.  
At some point I began to wonder what had become of my mother, would she make it? Was she ill? I longed to see her and comfort the loss of my father. I wanted to see her smile one more time, and play her favorite song. I imagined the cool piano keys beneath my fingers and they twitched with deep longing. It was a happy thought, and it carried me through the next wave of searing pain collecting in my chest.  
Some more time passed and with it I felt my body become heavier as I heaved against the weight of my illness with every breath. I felt as though I was seeing the world from the underside of a great body of water. Occasionally a shadow would loom over me, or run an icy hand over my forehead. I was now living for these moments, convincing myself to go on for the seconds of relief that would come to me if I held on one just one more night. but when the relief stopped coming it got difficult to remain, my resolve was fading. Aside from the sweltering heat I could no longer feel much pain. I didn’t feel much of anything besides the pool of dampness I lay in.  
I was surprised when my eyes flickered open, ragged gasps escaped me in short but powerful bursts. Adrenaline. My vision was spotty and blurred, bright light trickled over the shapes around the infirmary as I tried to focus on the presence that had appeared at my bedside. An angel, I reasoned. Death was here to steal my last breath. It was finally over.  
“Edward? Can you hear me?”  
Frigid fingers brushed down my temples and cheek. I shivered at the touch, though it was welcome against my burning skin.  
“Edward… stay with me. Please stay. I’m going to lift you now”  
It was barely a whisper in my ear. The cool hand felt at my wrist and then my neck. Did I still have a pulse? Where were we going?  
I felt the bed fall away and delicious chills swept through me. My head bobbed against the firm cloth of his chest. I was vaguely aware of the arms around me. Then the wind swallowed up my thoughts. We were outside, and moving very fast. Confusion quickly washed me into a sleep.  
I came to the surface again when the motion ceased. The room was very dark, it took a few moments for my eyes to get adjusted and I saw the doctor who had first tucked me into my hospital bed leaning over me with a severe expression. He brushed hair from my face and then laid a hand against my clammy head. I was slumped against a headboard, half sitting. I cried weakly as I caught sight of my bluish toes. Was I dead already? I tried to speak but my voice was so hoarse it didn’t produce much sound. It took all my energy to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head.  
“What’s happening to me?”  
But he didn’t answer. He turned my hand over and over, bringing my wrist to his nose and inhaling deeply. It was the most bizarre touch. if my body hadn’t been so weak I would have recoiled.  
“I’m sorry... This is going to hurt.., I promise I won’t leave your side. You’re going to be alright, think of something peaceful boy. I’m only doing what’s in my power.”  
His icy breath tormented my wrist. Finally he seemed to settle on the heel of my palm, bringing it to his nose again and then his cool lips. Without another warning his teeth came down hard on my flesh. It gave way with a punctured pop and I felt hot blood begin to drip. Screaming at the top of my impaired lungs, I tried to rip my palm from his mouth, but his iron grip did not release. He moaned in muffled satisfaction, sucking gently at the wound. He released me and moved to my wrist, puncturing my flesh once more. My own cries filled my ears, my head falling back as I failed to struggle free.  
The fever continued burning with such intensity I thought I would melt away before it ever ceased. I writhed and howled; my voice had returned though only to make futile cries. My chest was an incinerator as I felt my heart slowing, each painful beat more lethargic than the last one. Finally the doctor let my hand drop limply to my lap. I jerked my head to see his bloodied face. It was twisted with pity and concern as though he had not inflicted the injury himself. This would be the last scene of my life. Dying took a long time, and it was nothing like I imagined. I thought I would be at peace, and experience less pain...maybe see heaven. Instead this did feel more like true agony. 

This was not the end. 

To combat the fierce pain, adrenaline now pumped through my veins. Through an involuntary flail I flung myself to the floor, shoving myself up on my knees. I was fading in and out of blackness, unable to steady myself at first. Maybe I could defend myself. Maybe I would live through this if I could somehow make it to my feet. This seemed unlikely though; I couldn’t even feel my feet.The doctor followed me to the ground and I leered away from him, fearful he would drain me of what little force I had left. To my shock he reached out and cupped my face in his hands.  
“I’m here. I’m with you, it’s okay. I’m so sorry.”  
I looked up at him with furious eyes. Blood pooled into my clenched fist and out onto the floor beneath me. A new pain ripped through the wound and up my bitten arm, white hot and vicious unlike anything I’d ever felt. My stomach heaved and my muscles ached as they shook violently. With a ragged breath a sob broke free. I realized this might be hell. 

“Carlisle, what have you done?”

His voice was soft and remorseful. somehow through my ragged gasps I heard him clear as a bell. Despite this I wondered if he wasn’t an angel at all, but a bloodthirsty demon sent to torture me. In my thoughts I began to repent for every sin I committed in my short life.  
“Carlisle, make it stop.” I begged.  
My jaw was locked, my teeth grinding rhythmically to the tremors. He leaned his impossibly cold forehead against mine.  
“I’m so sorry Edward. I wish I could.”  
“Why?” I gasped. “Why did you bite me?”.  
My muscles were pulled taught and then released painfully. I felt the tears stream down my face, though confusion and anger began to fill me.  
“Your mother asked me to save you. I promised I would try.”  
“Save me? You damned me! Just kill me, finish the job. Finish me, please”I howled miserably. He looked at me with sympathetic eyes.  
“ I wish there were another way. I didn’t want you to suffer.”  
“Help me, please” I was whimpering like a child and swaying now. Unconsciousness was on my heels again.


End file.
